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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590876">the aux-cident</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiiasShorts/pseuds/RiiasShorts'>RiiasShorts</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Office, Awkward Sexual Situations, Bisexual Rey (Star Wars), Dirty Talk, Explicit Consent, F/M, Inner Dialogue, Light Dom/sub, Masturbation, Mutual Masturbation, My First Smut, Oral Sex, Pining, Porn, Rough Sex, Safe Sane and Consensual, Secret Crush, Sex, Sexting, Smut, Switch Rey (Star Wars), but not that rough</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-11</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-12</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 23:28:46</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,841</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23590876</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiiasShorts/pseuds/RiiasShorts</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>twitter prompt:</p><p>“I forgot I had porn pulled up on a tab on my phone, and when I hopped in the car and plugged it in, I was suddenly met with moaning in surround sound. I’m only sharing this in hopes someone writes an awkward Reylo about it.”</p><p>**this was originally written as a gift for a particular person who has since been revealed to be a really nasty, manipulative, awful human, so any mention of them has been deleted from this fic</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Rey &amp; Ben Solo, Rey &amp; Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>67</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>377</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Reylo Prompt Fills (@reylo_prompts)</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>so this was GOING to be a oneshot, but it's 3 am and i'm tired, so i'm going to bed and will write chapter 2 tomorrow. also, this is unbeta'd, so all mistakes are my own</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>Rey knew Ben hated Mondays.</p><p> </p><p>That’s why, when he pulled up in front of her apartment Monday morning, she turned her charm the <em> fuck </em> on. Huge smile? Check. Extra cup of coffee for him? Check. Some pep in her step? Check. Bright colored clothes? Check.</p><p> </p><p>It’s definitely just to make a friend happy, not because she’s hopelessly in love with him. Definitely not, that would be stupid.</p><p> </p><p>So what she spent a little extra money on whitening strips for her teeth? So what if she wrote his name and a little heart on the side of his (biodegradable) coffee cup? So what if she’s intentionally swaying her hips a bit more than usual? So what if her yellow sundress is just <em> barely </em> long enough to be work-appropriate?</p><p> </p><p>Pure coincidence, she’s sure. It’s not at all because she would give anything to see him check out her (tanned, shaved, and moisturized) legs or tight little ass, courtesy of excessive squatting during her thrice-weekly workout sessions. </p><p> </p><p>So when she walks out to Ben’s car and sees his face light up as soon as she catches his eye, she <em> definitely </em> doesn’t have butterflies in her stomach.<em> ( God fucking damn it, his dimples are so </em> fucking <em> cute. )</em></p><p> </p><p>Before she even gets a chance to tuck his coffee cup between her chest and the forearm of her opposite arm, the one that’s carrying her coffee, in an attempt to free a hand for opening the car door, he’s leaning across the passenger seat to push the door open for her, and her heart 100% did <em> not </em> flutter.</p><p> </p><p>Because she’s just friends with Ben Solo.</p><p> </p><p>Friends.</p><p> </p><p>If only the universe agreed with her aggressive self-imposed friendzoning. Alas, catastrophe <em> has </em> to strike because she’s Rey Niima, and she can’t do anything without making a damn mess first.</p><p> </p><p>She dodges a bullet by not spilling any coffee as she sits in the passenger seat. She manages to avoid flashing him in the process, too. And she thinks she’s on a fucking <em> roll </em> this morning <em>( Yes ma’am, Rey, you get him, girl! )</em></p><p> </p><p>That is, until he passes her the aux cord.</p><p> </p><p>It’s typical. He picks her up with NPR playing in the car, and he, knowing her distaste for people just sitting and talking and calling it entertainment, lets her DJ as he drives them both to work. The one caveat is that he has veto power on any song, but he barely uses it, and he’s reasonable when he does, so it barely even counts as a caveat. </p><p> </p><p>She could have <em> sworn </em> she cued up some happy, poppy songs (to start off the day on a happy note) before she went to bed last night, but apparently not. She plugs her phone in, shoots him a gleeful little smile as he shifts the car into drive, and goes to turn on her queue. </p><p> </p><p>Safari beats her to it, and in the worst way.</p><p> </p><p>A high-pitched moan cuts through the relative silence of the car. Rey’s eyes widen.</p><p> </p><p>It doesn’t stop. It intensifies, actually: the higher, more feminine wails are rhythmic, while a lower-pitched, male voice moans more intermittently but for longer. Behind it all is the unmistakable sound of skin-on-skin. In short, it sounds like pure sex.</p><p> </p><p>Her ears ringing, Rey panics, frantically pulling up Safari.</p><p> </p><p>The woman absolutely <em> shrieks </em> that she’s coming, and the man encourages her before letting out a louder, more intense moan.</p><p> </p><p>She finally closes the tab, her hands shaking. Her head falling back against the headrest, she screws her eyes closed as she feels the shame wash over her.</p><p> </p><p>And the morning was going so <em> well </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Her horny vagina and late-night masturbation session just <em> had </em> to go and ruin it.</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t even know what to say. What can she say? Ben has to know what he just heard; it was undeniably porn. <em>( Fuck, Rey, what the </em> fuck <em> ?! What the fuck did you </em> do <em>?! )</em></p><p> </p><p>She and Ben choose the same moment to speak up.</p><p> </p><p>“I--”</p><p> </p><p>“Um--”</p><p> </p><p>“--oh--”</p><p> </p><p>“--no, uh--”</p><p> </p><p>“--I’m--”</p><p> </p><p>“--<em> fuck </em>--”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t even know who says what, only that it’s a clusterfuck of stammering, and thank <em> god </em> no one’s pulled up behind his car at this stop sign because they’ve been sitting here for <em> far </em> too long. Finally, her brain decides to work, and she manages a coherent thought.</p><p> </p><p>“You talk first or I talk first?” she asks.</p><p> </p><p>Ben refuses to meet her eyes. “I dunno…”</p><p> </p><p>“Um--,” they both say at the same time. Rey flushes a brilliant red. </p><p> </p><p>“I’m so sorry, Ben. I-- I really thought that was closed and that I had a playlist pulled up, but, uh, apparently, um, <em> not </em>,” she stutters, still beet red with embarrassment. </p><p> </p><p>“No, it’s really okay, um, I mean, we’re both a-adults and, er, y’know, it’s perfectly, um, natural--”</p><p> </p><p>“God, Ben, <em> please </em> don’t give me a masturbation talk right now.”</p><p> </p><p>“Right. Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>“No! <em> I’m </em> sorry! <em> I </em> should be sorry! God, that was so fucking <em> stupid </em>,” she berates herself. She finally manages to take a breath that’s deeper than just in her throat. It seems her lungs have decided to come back online after short-circuiting in humiliation. “Just tell me what you want to do. If you want to pretend like this never happened, cool. If you never want to see me again, I get it. If you want to be porn buddies and send each other kinky shit, that works. Just tell me and I’ll do it,” she rambles desperately.</p><p> </p><p>“Rey,” he says, his voice surprisingly clear and unemotional.</p><p> </p><p>“Yes?” she squeaks, bracing for his response.</p><p> </p><p>He exhales, rubbing a hand over his face. Very subtly, he shifts in his seat (probably out of mortification). It takes him another moment to say something.</p><p> </p><p>“That was…”</p><p> </p><p>“Oh god.”</p><p> </p><p>“I don’t even…”</p><p> </p><p>“You don’t have to. I’ll get out. I’ll walk. You recoup, drink your coffee, turn NPR back on, whatever. The office’s not that far from here,” she babbles.</p><p> </p><p><em>“ Rey ,”</em> he repeats, firmer this time.</p><p> </p><p>“Sorry,” she chirps anxiously. They sit in silence for a moment, Ben’s hand still covering his face.</p><p> </p><p>After a moment, Ben asks, “When did you watch that?”</p><p> </p><p>Stunned, Rey lets out an ear-splittingly high-pitched, “What?!”</p><p> </p><p>Ben’s hand comes off his face and down to grab the edge of the center console. ‘When did you watch that video?” he asks, more firmly this time.</p><p> </p><p>Rey is speechless.<em> ( Is this actually fucking happening? Is he </em> coming onto <em> me? )</em></p><p> </p><p>“Last night? This morning? Two years ago?” Ben presses.</p><p> </p><p>“I, uh…”</p><p> </p><p>“Rey,” Ben’s voice hardens, “if you want me to stop talking, tell me and I will.”</p><p> </p><p>Rey nods.</p><p> </p><p>“Tell me what you want,” he insists, and she finds a part of herself is proud he’s so concerned with consent. She has good friends.</p><p> </p><p>Good friends she’s secretly in love with and pining over who just asked her when she watched a porn video.</p><p> </p><p>“Keep going,” she says, her voice steady and clear. She sounds sure, and she is.</p><p> </p><p>“Okay,” he says sweetly before reverting back into his demanding alter-ego. “When did you watch that porn, Rey? Did you touch yourself? Did you come?”</p><p> </p><p>Rey positively <em> keens .</em> “I watched it last night and yes, I came,” she breathes.</p><p> </p><p>“Did you use a toy? Your fingers?”</p><p> </p><p>“Toy.”</p><p> </p><p>Ben’s leaning towards her, over the console. She’s still leaning her head back against the headrest with one hand on her forehead and the other on her chest, where it rises and falls with each breath.</p><p> </p><p>“What kind of toy, Rey? I want you to describe it to me.” He grunts, and Rey’s eyes fly open. She follows his arm from his shoulder to his hand, which is currently palming his cock through his jeans.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Fuck, </em> ” she says, practically sighs (because oh my <em> god </em> that’s <em> so erotic </em>). “It’s a pink little bullet vibrator.”</p><p> </p><p>“Who were you thinking about?” he questions.</p><p> </p><p>Her eyes snap to his, which are already watching her face. “You. Always you. You since the first time I saw you-- <em> fuck </em>.” She cuts herself off as she wedges a hand between her thighs and grinds against it.</p><p> </p><p>Suddenly, a horn sounds from behind them and they’re both snapped out of their arousal-induced haze. Ben jerkily shifts the car into drive, pulling through the intersection and away from the stop sign they had been sitting at. The ride to work is completely silent, save for their labored breathing. When they finally get to the parking garage, Ben scouts for a spot, and chooses one relatively secluded. It’s under an old fluorescent light that’s broken, so no one wants to park under it, but it’s perfect for them to hide what they’re doing.</p><p> </p><p>Both of their hands return to their previous positions and they pick up where they left off.</p><p> </p><p>“You were thinking of me?”</p><p> </p><p><em>“ Yes ,”</em> she hisses.</p><p> </p><p>Ben hums. “I think of you too.”</p><p> </p><p>She doesn’t quite know why, but this, above everything else that’s happened that morning, catches her the most off-guard. “You do?”</p><p> </p><p>He breathes deeply. <em>“ Rey ,”</em> he moans lightly. “Every time.”</p><p> </p><p>She can’t find it in herself to be embarrassed about the whine that his confession tears from her throat.</p><p> </p><p>“Can we, shit, can we make ourselves come right here and then can I take you home tonight? Cook you dinner and watch a movie and maybe fuck you in a real bed?” he asks, and it almost sounds like he’s begging.</p><p> </p><p>“<em> Please </em>, Ben,” she moans. Taking that as her cue to get more direct contact in order to get herself off, she slips a hand under the skirt of her little yellow sundress, brings her knees up towards her chest, and rubs her fingers against the wet spot on her underwear.</p><p> </p><p>Meanwhile, Ben unzips his slacks and looks to her for a nod, which she eagerly provides, before he pulls his dick out of his boxer briefs. She hasn’t seen too many, but she’s fairly sure his is both the biggest and the prettiest cock on the planet. It’s red and straining, a bead of precum already gathering at the tip. Wanting him to see her, she turns to face Ben and pulls her underwear down her legs, spreading her thighs so he has a full view of what she’s doing with her fingers. </p><p> </p><p>It takes them a pitifully short amount of time to come. Ben cums into his other hand in an attempt to minimize the mess, and Rey grabs a tissue to wipe herself up before she pulls her panties back on and turns to face the dashboard again.</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck,” she breathes, still processing what had just happened.</p><p> </p><p>“I haven’t orgasmed that hard from my own hand in ages,” Ben murmurs, blushing and looking down. She smiles cheekily at him, and he returns her grin with a lopsided smirk of his own. Finally, they zip themselves back up and fix any disturbances to their appearance before they slip out of the car. </p><p> </p><p>It’s going to be a long fucking day if she’s waiting to go home with Ben.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>i'm literally half-asleep as i write this, so im sorry if the end of this chapter is a little iffy. it's my first smut, so i REALLY want your constructive criticism this time lol!! </p><p>look at the moodboard that KTF made for me 🥺🥺🥺 thank youuuuu bby</p><p>"i'll upload chapter 2 in the morning" she says. "it'll be up tomorrow" she says. nice going, riia lol, it's 24 hours later. but at least it's up? i hope you guys like ittt!!!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  
</p><p>All she has to do is work until 5, right? She does it every day, so it should be easy, right? She shouldn’t have to get herself off again in the bathroom, right?</p><p> </p><p>Not if Ben <em> fucking </em> Solo has anything to say about it.</p><p> </p><p>It’s barely eleven <em>(two hours down, six to go)</em> when the Slack messages start.</p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>11:02 AM</p><p>
  <em> I can’t wait for tonight. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>11:03 AM</p><p>
  <em> Me neither :) </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She’s keeping it professional, hoping that Ben will too.</p><p> </p><p>Fat fucking chance. </p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>11:03 AM</p><p>
  <em> You looked so pretty in the car this morning. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Jesus fucking <em> Christ </em> this man is going to make today <em> impossible .</em></p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>11:04 AM</p><p>
  <em> Thank you! </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>11:06 AM</p><p>
  <em> Is that all you have to say? “Thank you”? </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>11:07 AM</p><p>
  <em> Yep! Gotta keep it professional! The company can see our chat logs, you know. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>11:10 AM</p><p>
  <em> Are you sure that you, Little Miss IT, can’t do anything about it? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He has a point. She <em> is </em> the head of IT and could quite easily just delete these logs. Still, this is <em> so </em> against company policy and she’s <em> not </em> letting her libido corrupt her integrity.</p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>11:11 AM</p><p>
  <em> Irrelevant. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>11:11 AM</p><p>
  <em> Is it? </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>11:12 AM</p><p>
  <em> Yes. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><em> There</em><em>.</em> She was clear. And as much as she would <em> love </em> to see what filthy things he sends her today, she’s a good employee, so she’s putting a stop to this right <em> now</em><em>.</em> For sure. Definitely. Yep, that’s exactly what she’s going to do.</p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>11:13 AM</p><p>
  <em> I think your body would disagree. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>Holy motherfucking shitballs.</p><p> </p><p>She’s never typed “/mute” so fast or with so much self-doubt.</p><p> </p><p>Unfortunately, her curiosity didn’t seem to get the “we’re avoiding Ben Solo’s Slack conversation at all costs today” memo because at precisely 1:38 PM, she checks their direct message.</p><p> </p><p>And her pussy has an aneurysm. </p><p> </p><p>A few stick out at first glance:</p><p>
  <em> I was so hard for you. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> I’ve been wanting that to happen for so long. </em>
</p><p>
  <em> That video, Rey, fuck. Do you want me to make you scream like that tonight? </em>
</p><p>
  <em> Are you wet, Rey? </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She reads through everything he’s sent and genuinely wonders if she’ll survive the rest of the work day. She’s <em> throbbing</em>, and as she types her response, she catches herself grinding into her chair.</p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>1:40 PM</p><p>
  <em> Ben I can’t work when you’re sending stuff like that. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>He takes seconds to reply.<em> (What the fuck is this man doing if he can type dirty shit like that </em> and <em> respond in </em> literally <em> no time at all?)</em></p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>1:40 PM</p><p>
  <em> I can’t work when I’m thinking about you. And I’ve been thinking about you all day. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>1:41 PM</p><p>
  <em> Ben! </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>1:42 PM</p><p>
  <em> Tell me to stop and I’ll stop. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>1:44 PM</p><p>
  <em> Ben. </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>1:45 PM</p><p>
  <em> Rey? </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>1:47 PM</p><p>
  <em> Is that a stop or a keep going? </em>
</p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>1:48 PM</p><p>
  <em> I don’t knowwww. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>She really doesn’t. She has <em> so much </em> to do, and this isn’t helping, but she’s secretly <em> loving </em> the attention and dirty little thoughts.</p><p> </p><p><b>Ben Solo </b>1:49 PM</p><p>
  <em> How about this: you put our DM on mute, I keep sending you messages. At 4:50, you come check and see what I’ve sent you and then you delete our logs before we leave today. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>It’s not a bad idea. She already has to delete the logs anyway, with what he’s sent. So what if there are a couple more things to clear?</p><p> </p><p><b>Rey Niima </b>1:51 PM</p><p>
  <em> Deal. </em>
</p><p> </p><p>The next three hours couldn’t pass fast enough.</p><p> </p><p>She busies herself with the mundane stuff. A jammed printer here <em>(seriously, people, it gives you step-by-fucking-step instructions for fixing the jam and you </em> email IT<em>?)</em>, a glitching computer there, and the inevitable daily HR report for inappropriate conduct on Slack. </p><p> </p><p>Rey is killing time by checking her email when the alert she set pops up to tell her it’s 4:50. She can feel her heartbeat accelerate as she pulls up her DM with Ben.</p><p> </p><p>What she sees takes her goddamn breath away.</p><p> </p><p>It’s fucking <em> filthy</em>, but in the best way. He doesn’t assume any kinks or anything, isn’t demeaning or unnecessarily praising, doesn’t get too dirty, just eludes to the events in the car that morning and promises a good time tonight. It makes her heart sing and her blood pump just a little bit faster.</p><p> </p><p>It’s 4:57 when she deletes the logs after telling Ben to delete their chat from his computer and doing the same herself. </p><p> </p><p>It’s 4:59 when she packs everything into her bag, turns off the lights in her office, and locks the door.</p><p> </p><p>It’s 5:01 when Ben meets her by the elevator.</p><p> </p><p>She loses track of time after that. They both are practically vibrating as they wait for the elevator to descend into the parking deck levels, and they move so quickly to get to Ben’s car that they’re almost running. They leap into the car, throw their stuff in the backseat, and slam the doors. There’s a second when they’re both facing the dashboard, chests heaving, before Rey makes a realization.</p><p> </p><p>“Ben.”</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah?”</p><p> </p><p>“We haven’t kissed yet,” she says bluntly, turning to him.</p><p> </p><p>His eyebrows shoot upwards. “Oh fuck,” he breathes, turning towards her.</p><p> </p><p>She fucking <em> launches </em> herself across the center console.</p><p> </p><p>He’s right there with her.</p><p> </p><p>His hands catch her face, keeping her in place as he slants his lips over hers. Her hands shoot up to grab his hair, and she holds on for dear life.</p><p> </p><p>It’s pure hunger. Their tongues desperately slide against each other, and they take turns biting each other’s lips. Every so often, their teeth clash, but Rey couldn’t care less. All that matters is that this is <em> Ben </em> <em>(who tastes like peppermint and coffee and Ben, and </em> fuck <em> she could get used to this</em><em>)</em>. He groans and grips her head just a bit tighter, turning it to get himself a better angle as he devours her. She’s never been kissed like this, and she’s pretty sure she doesn’t want anything <em> but </em> this for the rest of her life. </p><p> </p><p>Anything but Ben for the rest of her life. <em>(Can her addictive personality just back the fuck off for a second?)</em></p><p> </p><p>Ben pulls back suddenly, heaving. “I need to get you home.”</p><p> </p><p>Alarm bells go off in her head <em>(because all she can think is that he wants to get her to </em> her <em> home because he doesn’t want to take her to </em> his <em> house because he doesn’t </em> want <em> her because </em> no one <em> ever has because--)</em></p><p> </p><p>“My home,” he clarifies, sounding scared. <em>(Nice poker face, Rey. He saw that all in your expression, and you know it.)</em></p><p> </p><p>She breathes a sigh of relief anyway. He smiles at her and throws the car into reverse. His driving on the way to his apartment is borderline reckless, but she doesn’t give a fuck when she could cut the sexual tension with a goddamn knife.</p><p> </p><p>It barely even registers when they pull into his parking spot that his apartment is upscale as fuck. She doesn’t even think about the fact that her apartment is half the size of his. None of it matters when he’s standing there wanting to fuck her (which he better do soon because she’s soaked through her underwear and her skirt might be next if she’s not careful).</p><p> </p><p>But of course he’s committed to feeding her first. <em>(He’s such a gentleman and it’s hot as fuck.) (But would it be hotter if he fucked her instead?)</em></p><p> </p><p>She’s at war with herself. It’s her heart versus her vagina at this point, and it’s an even matchup if she’s ever seen one. </p><p> </p><p>Then he starts cooking, and her vagina has <em> definitely </em> taken interest. Compromise, it is. <em>(He looks so fucking hot in a kitchen.)</em></p><p> </p><p>“Goddamn,” she says, deciding she has nothing to lose by expressing her interest.</p><p> </p><p>Ben smirks at her from over his shoulder. “What?”</p><p> </p><p>“Never thought cooking could be so sexy,” she offers, coming to stand behind him. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she slides one hand up to run over his chest while the other moves downward and palms at his half-hard cock. </p><p> </p><p>He mutters something, and she’s dying to know what it was he said. She tells him so.</p><p> </p><p>“I said ‘fucking hell, woman,’” he clarifies, turning in her arms and walking them backwards until her back hits the counter of the island behind her. </p><p> </p><p>She hums noncommittally, her eyes trained solely on his lips. He seems to catch that, if the smile forming on his face means anything. They move as one: she lifts onto her tiptoes and wraps her arms around his neck while he bends down and puts his hands on her waist. Vastly different from their first kiss, one that was hungry and desperate, this one is smooth and sensual. Their tongues slide against each other, delving languidly into each other’s mouths. Her lips curl into a smile and his follow, but she changes the mood when she sucks his bottom lip, nipping at it lightly before soothing it with her tongue. With that, he lets out a sound that can only be described as a growl and crowds her further back towards the counter. Her back is arched over the marble, and her hands are woven into his hair. He’s pressed so hard against her that she can feel his cock against her stomach. Wanting to tease him a bit, she wiggles against him in the best attempt at a grind she can manage in her current position, but it works as she intended it to, and he bucks his hips into her, his hands gripping her waist just a bit tighter. </p><p> </p><p>He lifts her so she’s sitting on the counter, and she opens her thighs so he can stand between them. At this angle, his erection can grind into her cunt in a way that makes her shudder with a wave of pleasure, and he proves it by starting a lazy rhythm of movement in his hips. She does the best she can to meet him, but most of her brain power is going into (and being lost in) the earth-shattering kiss they still haven’t broken.</p><p> </p><p>The fucking oven beeps. Because <em> of course </em> it does. <em> God forbid </em> electronics don’t ruin her day.</p><p> </p><p>“Damn.” It seems he agrees with her.</p><p> </p><p>He turns back to the oven, but not before sliding his hand into hers and squeezing in a way that makes her heart skip a beat. He checks it, then moves to his fridge and pulls out a delicious-looking pasta bake. As he slips it in the oven, he asks her to set a timer for twenty minutes. More than happy to help, she pulls one up on her phone and starts it.</p><p> </p><p>He turns back to her and realization dawns on his face. “Fuck.”</p><p> </p><p>“What?!” She’s fucking panicking, this could be <em> anything.</em></p><p> </p><p>“I didn’t ask you if you wanted anything to drink.”</p><p> </p><p>“Jesus fucking <em> Christ </em> , Ben, I almost had a heart attack, and you just forgot to pour me <em> water</em>?!”</p><p> </p><p>At least he has the decency to look sheepish. “Sorry.”</p><p> </p><p>She smiles at him affectionately. <em>(Game plan, Rey: overwhelm him with your two-year-long crush tonight, or wait until date five, scare him off, and be lonely either way?)</em></p><p> </p><p>Shit. She hadn’t thought of that. </p><p> </p><p>And naturally, Ben immediately asks, “Rey, what’s wrong?” Because she wears her emotions on her goddamn <em>sleeve</em> and has the worst poker face <em> ever</em>.</p><p> </p><p>What the hell. Might as well tell him, right? What’s the worst that could happen? Death? Unlikely. A screaming match? Possible, but improbable. He gets weirded out and never wants to see her again while she’s left to get herself home, masturbate, and die alone? Yeah, probably.</p><p> </p><p>“I, uh. Well, look, Ben, I’m just going to be honest here.” She takes a deep breath and closes her eyes because she <em> really </em> doesn’t want to see the look on his face if <em>(when)</em> he reacts badly to what she’s about to say. “I really like you, and I have for a while. And by a while, I mean since we first met, basically. So this isn’t a ‘no strings attached’ thing to me.”</p><p> </p><p>“Rey.”</p><p> </p><p>She opens her eyes. He’s looking at her, his expression weirdly unreadable.</p><p> </p><p>“Calm down.”</p><p> </p><p>Genius, really. Why didn’t she think of that? "Calm down"? Wild. <em>(Jesus, Rey, be </em> more <em> of an asshole, why don’t you?)</em></p><p> </p><p>That’s what she <em> thinks,</em> but a soft “okay” is all she says. (Thank fucking <em> god </em> because she has no filter half the goddamn time.) He seems pleased and continues talking.</p><p> </p><p>“I like you too.”</p><p> </p><p>Her heart <em> soars, </em>and she feels the waterworks turn on. </p><p> </p><p>“I don’t know how long I have, really, because for a while I think I pretended like I didn’t so I could function around you, but I realized it over time,” he tells her, and his honesty feels nearly as good as the words he’s saying.</p><p> </p><p>“Wow,” she breathes, and he huffs in amusement.</p><p> </p><p>“Needless to say, I wasn’t quite expecting today to go the way it has, but I agree. This isn’t a hookup or a fuckbuddies scenario. I want you, Rey. I want you physically, yeah, but I also want to make you dinner and take you on dates and learn where your brain goes when you look sad and distant. I want to text you first thing every morning and last thing every night, I want to put a heart next to your name in your contact in my phone, I want to be able to kiss you whenever I want to and hold your hand, I--”</p><p> </p><p>“Me too,” she says, and she’s crying.</p><p> </p><p>“Rey, I--,” he says, sounding frantic, but she cuts him off.</p><p> </p><p>“Happy tears!”</p><p> </p><p>That’s all it takes for him to relax. His anxious dive towards her turns into a sweeping hug, and she’s never felt this safe. She sniffles and presses her face into his chest, breathing in the smell that she can only describe as <em> Ben</em>. They stay in that position for a wonderfully long time. Rey doesn’t think she’s ever been hugged like this and for this long.</p><p> </p><p>In a shocking turn of events, they’re interrupted by technology: the alarm on her phone goes off. (<em>Have they really been standing there for </em> that long<em>?)</em></p><p> </p><p>Ben pulls away, and she mourns the loss of his warmth. After checking on the pasta, he directs her to a cabinet to grab water glasses while he pulls their dinner out of the oven. It’s blissfully domestic, preparing for dinner with him. She feels all warm and fuzzy in a way she’s never felt before. With a couple more directions from Ben, soon they’ve pulled together a quick salad and set the table. He grabs a couple of candles and sets them in the center of his little breakfast table. She’s never felt more cared for.</p><p> </p><p>Ben makes her feel <em> lots </em> of ways, and most of them are wonderful firsts.</p><p> </p><p>They both, without talking about it, eat like the food is about to disappear. It’s fast and mindless; neither of them savor it (though Rey knows she’ll beg to take some home later because it’s yummy as hell), and they talk very little. She just watches his eyes as his pupils gradually dilate, and she’s sure hers are doing the same thing.</p><p> </p><p>It’s a fucking footrace to get their dishes into the sink. Ben throws on the tap and waits for it to warm up so he can soak their plates while they’re otherwise <em> occupied </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Finally he’s done.</p><p> </p><p>Her heart is thundering, and her pussy is throbbing.</p><p> </p><p>“Condom?” he asks. She nods; she’s on birth control, but she wants to play it safe, just for now. He mirrors her nod and takes her hand, pulling her up a staircase and into his bathroom. He grabs a condom from the cabinet under his sink, then leads her out of the bathroom and into the next room, his bedroom.</p><p> </p><p>His room has a four-poster California king (because the man is practically seven feet tall, at least to her, and she’s five foot seven) and a consistent dark blue-green color pallet. It’s nice, homey. She gets a bit of a bachelor pad vibe, but it’s way too professional to be a <em> true </em> bachelor pad. Just like him, it feels safe.</p><p> </p><p>She turns to look at him and finds him watching her, gauging her reaction. She smiles shyly. Somehow, even though she’s seen his cock and he’s seen her pussy, she’s nervous, but a good nervous. It feels like anticipation, not anxiety. Her stomach is full of butterflies.</p><p> </p><p>“Take your dress off.” His voice is low and demanding. (<em>Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she could probably come from his voice </em> alone<em>.</em>)</p><p> </p><p>A shudder runs through her body, and he raises an eyebrow in curiosity. “Didn’t realize I have a voice kink,” she explains, a blush rising on her face. He blushes too because <em> of course </em> he’s a sex god with an adorable smile and blushing cheeks.</p><p> </p><p>“Yeah? You like this?” he asks teasingly, strutting towards her like a goddamn Calvin Klein model. She can only whine because <em> fuck yes she likes it</em>. “What should I call you, Rey?”</p><p> </p><p>“Anything,” she breathes.</p><p> </p><p>“Nothing specific?” he clarifies, and she realizes he’s asking if she has any specific speech kinks. </p><p> </p><p>She shakes her head. “You?” She barely has the brain capacity to ask.</p><p> </p><p>“Call me whatever you want to, baby.” (<em>Ooh </em> fuck <em> her pussy likes that. His voice is positively </em> sinful <em> when he says “baby.” </em>)</p><p> </p><p>She nods fervently. He smirks.</p><p> </p><p>“I believe I gave you some instructions.”</p><p> </p><p>She’s confused for a second, but it clicks, and she’s never taken off a dress that fast in her life.</p><p> </p><p>(<em>Oh fucking shit she never checked her goddamn </em> lingerie<em>, and given her luck today, it’s probably horrifically patterned and not even </em> remotely <em> sexy.</em>)</p><p> </p><p>She looks down. Yellow lace. Thank fuck. It makes her look tanner and is hot as fuck (she’s been told by a brutally honest, bisexual, female friend, her usual lingerie shopping buddy because of their shared sexuality).</p><p> </p><p>He seems to agree, judging by the appreciative groan.</p><p> </p><p>“Do you like it?” she asks, and Switch Rey has come out to play.</p><p> </p><p>As he reaches out to run his hands over her stomach, he lets out a gravely, “You can bet your sweet little ass I do.” He slaps said ass lightly, and she whines. (She’s not one for S&amp;M, but she’ll take a well-meaning spanking <em> happily </em> almost any day of the week.)</p><p> </p><p>“On the bed,” he demands.</p><p> </p><p>Wanting to tease him, she sits on the edge. It technically is what he asked for, just not what he really wanted, and she knows it. “This is as far as I’m going until your shirt and slacks are off.”</p><p> </p><p>He quirks a brow at her but obeys, his hands deftly unbuttoning his shirt and unzipping his pants. When he shucks the pants but keeps his shirt on and unbuttoned, she’s conflicted. It’s hot, but she wants to <em> see </em> him. Whatever. She’ll let him get away with it for now.</p><p> </p><p>Keeping her word, she scoots backwards onto the bed, and he crawls up after her. She stops when her head is on his pillows, and he cages her in under his body. </p><p> </p><p>“Hi,” she says, giggling.</p><p> </p><p>“Hi yourself,” he says, giving no warning before he dives down to <em> claim </em> her lips. They both moan into the kiss, and her legs spread, bracketing his hips. He starts grinding into her, his rhythm unhurried, almost leisurely. </p><p> </p><p>After a minute, he comes up for air but continues the grinding.</p><p> </p><p>“I can feel how wet you are,” he groans into her ear.</p><p> </p><p>She screws her eyes shut as her neck bows. “Fuck.” She doesn’t even have to look at him, she can <em> feel </em> him chuckling. </p><p> </p><p>“You want this, baby?”</p><p> </p><p>Her hips buck up into him, breaking their rhythm. “<em>Yes</em>,” she whines.</p><p> </p><p>Leaving open-mouthed kisses all over her neck and jaw, he trails his lips up until they brush her ear. “Tell me what you want. My fingers? My mouth? My <em> cock </em> ?” He punctuates the end of his sentence with a particularly forceful thrust against her (as if she doesn’t already know where his cock is. She’s <em> perfectly aware</em>, as is her cunt). </p><p> </p><p>Nevertheless, she moans. “Mouth! Mouth, please, put your mouth on my cunt, I need it, please,” she blabbers mindlessly. </p><p> </p><p>Obeying her, he trails kisses down her body until he reaches her bra. He stops, looking up at her, and she arches her back in silent permission for him to unclasp her bra. He gets the message and nearly <em> tears </em> it off her. </p><p> </p><p>She never realized having someone’s mouth on her tits could feel <em> this good </em> . When he catches her nipple between his teeth and worries it before soothing it with his tongue, the sounds she lets out are visceral and downright <em> indecent </em>.</p><p> </p><p>“Later,” he says, his voice scratchy with arousal, “I’m going to make you come with only my mouth on your tits.”</p><p> </p><p>“Fuck, you can do that?” she asks in disbelief.</p><p> </p><p>“I’ve done it before,” he says and shoots her a wink.</p><p> </p><p>She never expected the wave of jealousy that comes over her with the idea of him fucking another girl.</p><p> </p><p>Borderline angry, she grabs a handful of his hair and <em>pulls</em>, not enough to really hurt but enough to pull him off her. “Don’t you <em> dare </em> talk about another girl,” she growls at him, her teeth bared and her eyes narrowed. </p><p> </p><p>Ben surges upwards to kiss her. “Okay, baby, I’m sorry,” he says soothingly, petting her hair. Satisfied, she nods and lays back down, letting him continue his task.</p><p> </p><p>He trails more wet kisses down her belly until he reaches the waistband of her thong. Before he can ask her if he can take them off, she’s pulling them down her thighs. He takes over and pulls them the rest of the way off. His hands run over her inner thighs, holding them apart. Knowing she <em> has </em> to watch this, she props herself on her elbows and watches him bury his head between her legs.</p><p> </p><p>It’s divine, the way he tastes her. He starts with long licks, his tongue pressed flat against her. It stimulates <em> everything</em>, and she moans deeply. For just a split second, he swirls his tongue around her clit, and she knows she could come from that one movement <em> alone</em>, but he moves away too quickly for it to actually happen. Instead, he fucks her with his tongue, thrusting it into her pussy and licking around her hole, and it feels filthy and <em> perfect</em>. After a good amount of time spent winding her up by tongue-fucking her, he moves back up to her clit and pulls a hand from her thigh. He slips it between, and she feels a fingertip brush her hole. She knows she was wet enough to take him beforehand, but his tongue has her <em> more </em> than ready to be fucked full of him.</p><p> </p><p>He thrusts his finger in and out of her, laving his tongue over her clit. It’s blissful, the way he works her body. She could lay here all day and have him eat her out, regardless of whether or not she comes. It feels too good to be worried about an orgasm.</p><p> </p><p>Her opinion changes only moments later.</p><p> </p><p>He pulls his finger and adds a second before pushing back into her cunt. He’s still playing with her clit, but things change when he hooks his fingers. Her back arches off the bed, and her moans get <em> loud</em>. She has no fucking clue how he found her g-spot, let alone so quickly, but he keeps hitting it, and his lips are around her clit, and he’s sucking, and she’s fucking herself on his fingers, and he’s relentless, and her moans are becoming higher-pitched and more frequent, and she’s coming, she’s fucking coming, she’s coming harder than she ever has in her fucking <em> life </em>. </p><p> </p><p>His movements ease up enough to avoid overstimulation while still fucking her through her orgasm. She’s never experienced the cliche post-coital, foggy bliss with anything or anyone besides her vibrator and girls, yet here this man is, flipping her world on its axis. She’s panting and fighting to slow her breathing when he crawls back up her body. His face is wet with her arousal, as are his fingers, which he presses against her lips. She takes them in her mouth, maintaining direct eye contact with him while she sucks his fingers off. (<em>Look what she can do. Feel how she can suck him. Imagine what it would feel like if it were his cock instead of his fingers. She could make him feel so good.</em>) </p><p> </p><p>He moans, and it’s animalistic. It makes his earlier moans sound restrained. It’s desperate, and she can’t just <em>sit</em> here while his cock is as hard as she knows it is in his boxer-briefs.</p><p> </p><p>After shoving his button-up off his shoulders, she slides a hand between them and into his underwear. Needily, she takes his dick in her hand and strokes him. It’s not tentative, first-time, gentle rubbing, no, it’s full “do it, come right now” jacking him off, and he nearly collapses onto her. He catches himself at the last minute and sits back on his haunches, pushing his underwear down his legs frantically. Taking himself in hand, he squeezes the base of his cock, and she secretly delights in the fact that she brought him <em> that close </em> to the edge after just <em> seconds </em> of touching him.</p><p> </p><p>“Please tell me I can fuck you,” he says, looking down at her with half-lidded eyes. She nods insistently, a bit too far gone to answer with words. He groans in relief, leaning over to grab the condom. Rolling it on, he sweeps his gaze over her body. Once he’s done, he repositions himself on top of her. Excitement and arousal flood her body as she reaches down, guiding him towards her pussy. She drags the tip of his cock through her folds, once, twice, three times, then circles it around her clit as they both moan, long and deep.</p><p> </p><p>“Take my cock, Rey. Now,” he orders, and she’s <em>so </em> quick to obey him. Her whole body is vibrating in anticipation as the head catches in her cunt. His is too, and the second she has him positioned, he thrusts up into her, fucking <em> impaling </em> her on his cock in one motion.</p><p> </p><p>She hears a needy whine, and she barely registers that it came from <em> her</em>.</p><p> </p><p>He’s right there with her, his face tucked into her neck so that his moans, low, rhythmic, but loud, are muffled by her skin. She reaches up and pulls at his hair.</p><p> </p><p>“I want to hear you,” she breathes, and he nods. They both keep their eyes closed, but their faces hover right near each other. Every so often, she feels his lips brush hers and his nose lightly bump the bridge of hers.</p><p> </p><p>His thrusts are powerful, deep and hard. Basking in the sounds of their fucking, Rey loses herself in the feeling of her body so readily accepting his. He fills her so completely that when her pussy flutters, it can barely squeeze. They both lower their inhibitions, making whatever noise comes out of their mouths without caring about how it sounds. She’s never been fucked like this, and she’s goddamn <em> positive </em> that Ben Solo has ruined her for everyone else.</p><p> </p><p>Strangely, she finds that she doesn’t mind. If she can get dicked down like this for the rest of her life, she will die a happy woman.</p><p> </p><p>Soon, Ben’s hand comes down to grab her hip. His thumb extends until it finds her clit, and he rubs hard and fast. She nearly screams. It’s so much, to have him fucking her cunt full while he circles her clit relentlessly. </p><p> </p><p>Her orgasm builds like a tsunami. She barely anticipates it, barely has time to warn him before it sweeps over her body.</p><p> </p><p>“Ben! Ben, fuck! I’m gonna--, I--, FUCK!” She fucking <em> screams </em> as her pussy contracts around him. Her legs are shaking, her toes are curling, and she feels her orgasm through her entire body. She’s never once in her life come this fucking hard.</p><p> </p><p>“Rey!” he grunts, caught off-guard by her orgasm. He manages to snap his hips into hers a couple more times before he slams into her cunt, pressing her into the mattress. His hips still jerking into her, his cock throbs in her cunt, and part of her wishes she could feel his cum inside her, but she always has next time.</p><p> </p><p>They both come down from their orgasms. Rey can’t stop thinking about the fact that<em> there’s going to be a next time. </em> She’s simultaneously blissed out and giddy. </p><p> </p><p>Ben pulls out, and she lets out a little whimper at the loss of him inside her. He smooths a hand over her torso before getting up, taking the condom off, tying it, and throwing it away. When he turns back to her, a crooked grin spreads across his face.</p><p> </p><p>“What are you smiling about?” he asks.</p><p> </p><p>“You,” she says honestly, if not a bit mysteriously.</p><p> </p><p>“What about me?” he presses, climbing back into bed and pulling her towards him. They’re facing each other, and Rey slings a leg up over his hip. Their bodies naturally settle into a position that feels so natural that it’s like they’ve been doing this for years.</p><p> </p><p>She runs a hand over one of his pecs. “That you’re mine,” she mumbles, peeking up at him from under her lashes. Terrified she overstepped, she tracks his face for any microexpressions. Thankfully, he breaks into a breathtaking smile. His arms pull her even closer to him, and he tucks her head under his chin.</p><p> </p><p>“Mine,” he echoes, and she feels whole.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you so much for your support!! lmk what you think!!</p><p>find me on twitter @riiasshorts</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>lmk what you think &lt;3</p><p>find me on twitter @riiasshorts</p></blockquote></div></div>
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